


Passionate Tango

by juicyjunhui



Category: VIXX
Genre: Blood, Dancing, Death, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:00:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21853333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juicyjunhui/pseuds/juicyjunhui
Summary: He hates that Taekwoon is killing him slowly, in the most beautiful way possible.
Relationships: Cha Hakyeon | N/Jung Taekwoon | Leo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Passionate Tango

**Author's Note:**

> not proof read... not rly finished but here !

It started elegantly. It was a subtle ache in his chest, a skip of a heartbeat, a feeling of being fulfilled, yet, like something was missing. 

It continued. 

It grew bigger as time went on, a missed beat turned into being unable to breathe, having his lungs collapse, air being trapped in his esophagus and only releasing in the form of gasps as tears poured from his eyes. Fulfillment was no more, instead, his heart was just a hollow shell. 

Hakyeon cries. He cries until he can't bear the pain from how sore his eyes are, until his chest is incapable of the sharp breaths he keeps taking, until his voice is barely a whisper. 

Hakyeon thinks maybe time will tell all, he keeps denying the root of the problem, maybe he deserves the pain -- doesn't it hurt for a reason? 

Converse shuffle across the practise room floor, a squeak daring to break the concentration of his group. No one pays him any mind, too busy with the usual grind of practise, practise,  _ practise.  _ With furrowed brows, Hakyeon starts to believe he should practise too -- of course, that includes the choreography he's obsessively memorized, however he thinks he should practise facing the emotions he feels, or even practising dismissing them and trying his best to be… content and happy with what he has. 

That's maybe the hardest of them all. He just doesn't think he has the  _ capability  _ to be content or happy. He just absolutely  _ cannot comprehend  _ being either of those things anymore, let alone being truthful with himself. 

"Would you guys mind," Hakyeon quips a quick breath, nervous of this spontaneous command, "if I had some practise time alone here?". He needed his time. 

No one retaliated, instead, the others just grabbed their belongings and rushed off. Taekwoon, though, lingered for a second, taking his own time, letting his eyes meet Hakyeon's in what felt like a battle to the death. Usually honey skin started to drain to a much paler colour, a feeling of weakness striking the man to his bones. 

The door slammed shut. 

Could they all tell? 

Shaking hands turns the music on. This was a piece he's worked on for so long, and now, he finally gets to perform it in a place that feels like home: the stage. 

He moves. 

He moves so fluidly, so languid, every step and expression transitioning seamlessly into one. 

He moves, but his mind comes crashing down, and the tears flow more perfectly than his body and he doesn't know what to do. 

He's trapped. 

He's trapped in a box unsure how to get out. The walls are closing in, they're becoming of him, they're making him a prisoner of his own body, of his own mind. 

Hakyeon tries to finish dancing. His feet stumble and he collapses. His chest is tight, his ribs hurt from the sheer thumping of his heart against them trying to supply him enough oxygen, he doesn't know what to do once again. 

The mirror reflects his state. Eyes grow wide in sorrow and pain. He can't do this anymore. 

The piece he dances solo, one he named "Passionate Tango", was a piece for two. 

_ A piece for Taekwoon and I.  _

It's then his eyes seem to bulge out of his head. An entity unknown to him seems to pierce his body, kicking him in the mysterious fog of his soul. 

Hakyeon is short of breath. He coughs. 

It's teardrop shaped, light pink with a smooth gradient leading to a more striking, deeper pink. A petal. He coughs again, a wave of petals bolt out of his mouth. Crimson liquid follows. This is his worst nightmare, but he couldn't say he didn't expect it. 

  
  
  
  


Nothing compares to Taekwoon. His eyes light up when he smiles a tooth bearing grin, forming little crescents that Hakyeon was sure held the long lost secrets to the world. Taekwoon was just so kind, caring and everything that Hakyeon loved. Taekwoon was over 6 feet tall, but sometimes, acted like a baby: throwing tantrums, needing constant attention and feeding. Hakyeon thought it was just  _ cute.  _ Everything about the man made a bubbly feeling rise in the other, a smile constantly being plastered across his face because of him. 

Hakyeon's current reality, though, was much different. 

Taekwoon telling jokes to suit Hakyeon's acquired sense of humor, Taekwoon offering food to Hakyeon, and on their days of rest where they would watch movies and cuddle  _ just as friends  _ all made Hakyeon  _ itch.  _ His throat would itch and Hakyeon wanted nothing more than to claw it until it stopped. 

Then the petals would start to accumulate. A dash to the bathroom, dismissing himself from whatever life he was living in that moment to take a little of his own. 

He hates it. He hates that Taekwoon is killing him slowly, in the most beautiful way possible.

  
  


Time would tell, he once said, but it was he who told instead. 

The blonde man had prepared Hakyeon coffee, some pastries, and a little thank you card that sat atop an expensive looking box. "Open it, you deserve it after that meeting with the CEO, we all want to say thanks for dealing with the contract renewal," Taekwoon speaks between bites of his own pastry, his cheeks swelling up like a hamster as he chewed. 

"I don't deserve shit, Taekwoon," Hakyeon rubs his eyes, still half asleep. "I just did what needed to be done, but thank you anyway,". 

The kitchen is big and airy, the morning sunrise indicate it's still quite early, with the bright bursts of light bouncing off the silky walls. It's radiant, yet the atmosphere is near deathly. 

Nimble hands tamper with the seal of this box -- it's a  _ very  _ expensive watch, one Hakyeon had been looking at for quite some time. 

"I love you Hakyeon, I hope we can continue for a long time, especially as VIXX. Thank you for sorting out the contracts once again, if it wasn't for you, we may not even be here anymore." That would usually be enough for Hakyeon, hearing Taekwoon say comforting words with that light voice of his. 

But it drove him over the edge. It made him want to  _ itch _ until the skin on his bones scratched off. Steam was fanning itself to the front of his mind, driving the turbine to run faster; Hakyeon's face turned red, shivers ran up and down his body, and the tap turned on. He couldn't hold it in anymore. 

"Like fuck do you love me," He coughs. He coughs again. Petals upon petals come up in an ugly, bloodied abundance. The other’s eyes just narrowed, lips pulling themselves downwards -- in that moment, time stopped for Hakyeon, all he could process was the sharp breathe pulled from Taekwoon, before a screeching of a chair against the floor, swiftly followed by a harsh door slam. 

Little pin pricks were starting to pinch in Hakyeon’s chest. Cherry blossoms didn’t house thorns, but this love was too hurtful for them not to grow. He knew these thorns were only minute -- but to his misfortune, small always feels big, this tiny little pieces of stem were cutting in like a butcher’s knife had been struck through Hakyeon’s chest. 

It was growing out of him. 

Coughs echoed throughout the room, this time, a branch. It was only getting worse as the clock ticked over a new second. Petals were beginning to pile up in Hakyeon’s hand, blood dripping on the floor; he was dribbling a bloody mix all down himself.

Something sinister was happening to Hakyeon. Death was upon him, slowly, lovingly, it would wrap its sweet embrace around him - beautifully too. He thinks, as he struggles for air, that maybe the vivid pink of the petals will stay true, and when he dies, they will hide the sunken grey of his face and body. 

Hakyeon closed his eyes, it was time, and time tells. The piercing of his lungs won this time, suddenly he couldn’t breathe, instead he gasps for air, this disgustingly raspy sound echoing around the room as all he can do is rid of the last oxygen molecules in him. 

Taekwoon decides now is the best time to return, a shriek, a gasp, just noise leaving him as he sees the beautiful death that lies before him. It was then his heart shattered to something unfixable, something that wouldn’t heal with time. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> not much to report.... this was a quick wip i made ages ago and thought i would psot it as is, as i didn't wanan ruin the vibe this piece gives. maybe a second chapter could be a thing, maybe i should tell taekwoons side? who knows !


End file.
